


Free to Play

by EzzyDean



Category: Free!, Haikyuu!!, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 8,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various prompts for various pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TakaMido - Fingertips

The room is nearly silent except for the sound of rain pattering against the window and their slow, quiet breaths.  The last piece of tape is pulled from his fingers and he flexes them carefully.  The cool air on his hand always feels refreshing after a long day.  The air is the same on either hand but one is so sensitive after being taped all day that even the air has a weight to it.  It’s a strange sensation.  

Takao runs a finger gently down the back of his now untaped hand and Midorima raises his eyebrow.  ”You really are obsessed with my hands.”

"Not nearly as obsessed as you are," he replies and presses firmly yet gently against one knuckle.  "And in case you haven’t noticed by now I’m kind of obsessed with all of you."  Takao’s lips replace his fingers for a brief moment and Midorima’s fingers twitch as the soft lips, far softer than any human being had a right to have he was certain, brushed each knuckle before pressing a kiss to the back of his hand.  

"I had, in fact, noticed."  Takao is pressing each knuckle, each joint, each muscle, with pinpoint precision and Midorima knows that once he’s satisfied with this hand he’ll switch to the other.  And if he’s in a playful mood, which he often is, he’ll continue the massage along any part of Midorima’s body he’ll let him touch.

Midorima would actually be willing to admit that Takao gives great massages.  Takao claims that it’s just because he knows his Shin-chan and his body so well that he knows exactly where to touch.  When Midorima is practically a boneless pile of muscle face down on one of their beds he is in no position to argue.  The fact that since they graduated and moved into an apartment together Takao has started referring to him as “his” Shin-chan has not escaped his notice.  But finds that he doesn’t mind as much as he would have expected to.

"Some days I still can’t believe you let me do this," Takao murmurs as he rubs the back of Midorima’s hand and moves along his arms to his shoulders.

"I trust you."  Is Midorima’s reply and he doesn’t miss the way Takao’s hands still for a moment before he continues the massage.  He slips his hands out from under Midorima’s sleeve and tugs at the bottom of his shirt.  They slip it off and then Takao’s hands run along the muscles of Midorima’s back from his waistband to his neck and he suppresses a shiver at the touch.  Takao leans his head against Midorima’s shoulder and he can feel the heat from his cheek seeping into his skin.  He knows that Takao understands what he means.  That he trusts him with his hands and his hands are basically his future.  He’s essentially told Takao that he trusts him with his life, his future, his livelihood.

It’s a heavy burden, to be trusted by someone like Midorima.  He knows that he’s not an easy person to tolerate even when he tries.  But Takao takes everything he has with a smile or a fond look or an over-exaggerated sigh.  And then he takes Midorima’s hands in a grip so gentle no matter what and Midorima knows he’s okay.  They’re okay.

Even if he hasn’t let the other teen “in his pants” yet they’re okay.  He smiles into his pillows when Takao pinches his hip and calls him an old fuddy duddy or something equally ridiculous.  But then he smiles even more when Takao runs his fingers down his spine and curls up beside him for awhile.  Some days he goes back to his own bed or, if Takao is in his room, Takao will head back to his own room.  Some days they fall asleep together and wake up curled around each other.  When they do he always wakes up with some part of Takao pressed against his bare skin in some way.


	2. TakaMido - Time Travel

"Are you telling me you’ve never thought about it or that you wouldn’t do it?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes.  This is a very important question Shin-chan."  They are lounging in Midorima’s apartment late one Saturday evening, Takao flipping through a magazine without really reading it and Midorima sorting through bills and paperwork and other adult tasks.  Midorima can’t really pinpoint the time in their friendship when they had actually casually started hanging out like this but after all this time he can’t really bring himself to mind, even when Takao finishes the last of his favorite juice without telling him or leaves his dirty laundry on the floor even though he doesn’t live here yet.

"Why is it an important question?"

"It just is.  If time travel was possible would you use it?"

"There is nothing enjoyable about finding out a future and then worrying every step of the way if you’re making the right decisions to lead you to the future you saw.  Or what if you didn’t like the future when you see it but by living until that future you end up wanting that situation?"  Takao puts the magazine aside and sits up to watch Midorima over the back of the couch.  The familiarity of the action, of this particular scene being played out almost everyday, is probably what prompts him to answer when Takao asks what he means.  "If my Teiko self were to pop in and see this scene right now I would probably do everything possible to avoid it.  To change it.  I didn’t need anyone.  Didn’t need distractions from the path I had chosen."  

Takao rests his chin on the couch and watches as Midorima finishes sorting and filing away his papers and turns his full attention on him.  He has to swallow a couple of times because catching Shin-chan’s full attention like this always trips him up a little.  ”What about Shutoku you?”

"Seeing myself here on a Saturday night in such a domestic scene with you?  I would have done everything humanly and inhumanly possible to avoid it.  Annoying.  Loud.  Frustrating.  Headstrong.  Optimistic.  Everything I tried to avoid."  Takao’s heart stuttered a little on the domestic bit.

"And now?  What about seeing the future from here?"

Midorima smiles and shakes his head.  Takao was still frustrating with his pointless questions.  But he can’t help but want to indulge him anyway.  ”Why would I want to know about some random sure point in my future and worry that I’m doing everything wrong to get there?  In the end not knowing my exact future has gone pretty decently for me so far.”  He leaves Takao to puzzle out his meaning as he cleans up his papers and gets ready for bed.  It’s not long before Takao is scrambling down the hallway after him with a laugh.

"Shin-chan likes me!" He giggles as he wraps his arms around Midorima’s waist and rubs his face between his shoulder blades.

"If I didn’t I wouldn’t let you visit so often."

"Does this mean I can stay the night again?"

"Obviously."

As Takao falls asleep wrapped around him Midorima thinks that he’s really quite happy he had never seen this in his future.  He never would have wanted this back at Teiko and he had barely tolerated it at first at Shutoku.  But now?  Now he’s content to be lying in bed with the man he’s pretty certain he’s quite thoroughly in love with beside him.


	3. MidoRei - Puzzle

He’d been around Nagisa and Rin and the others long enough to know weird when he saw it and after weeks of careful observation Rei had come to the conclusion that Midorima Shintaro was weird.  Not just weird.  But  _weird._  Rei knew he wasn’t one to judge based on his severe interest in the beauty of things but yeah.  He had caught Rei’s attention at first because he was in Rei’s college introduction class and had been the only student there who had opted to bring along an antique looking glass with them.  He had kept Rei’s attention because he was, in his own unique way, beautiful (and there was Rei’s little weirdness coming out, yes he understands.)  It wasn’t like Rei searched him out or anything.  He just happened to see him every once in awhile while they were crossing the campus between classes or at the library doing research and stuff like that.

He wasn’t stalking him.  But he was curious about him.  About the way he seemed to keep himself away from everyone.  The way he seemed almost expressionless.  The way he carried himself.  The things he carried with him.

The day Rei knew he was in trouble was the day he spied Midorima at a table at the library with a tiny smile on his lips as he read something on his phone.  Rei felt a stir of jealousy in his gut at whoever sent whatever they had to Midorima that made him smile that tiny smile.  He knew it was irrational but it didn’t help any.

A few days later he had been jogging around the indoor track set up above the outer edge of the basketball court in the smaller of the school’s two gyms when he heard the swish of a basketball through the net below.  He slowed down enough to recognize the bright green hair and watched as Midorima shot a perfect three pointer.  He knew that Midorima had played basketball in middle and high school but, as far as he knew, hadn’t joined the team at their college.  He hadn’t checked out his stats or records or anything.  That was a little too creepy-stalker for his tastes.  Rei picked his pace back up as Midorima sank his fourth three pointer in a row.

Not long after Rei was on his fifth lap and Midorima had made countless three pointers when the door to the gym opened and a voice called out.  ”Shin-chan!  I’m here!”  Rei slowed again and peeked down in time to see a shorter man throw himself at Midorima and cling on to his arm.  The gym was deserted except for the the three of them and Midorima’s voice easily carried up to Rei.

"I can see that Takao.  I thought you weren’t going to be here until the weekend?"

"That was the plan but then I thought ‘why waste a day?’ and decided to come up early.  Aren’t you happy to see me Shin-chan?"  The other man, Takao, turned away to pick up the basketball and Rei almost swore he saw that tiny smile on Midorima’s face.  He turned his attention away from the duo and concentrated on finishing his remaining laps.

He sat on the bottom of the steps from the track and watched them play for a few minutes and it really was beautiful.  Midorima’s three pointers and blocks were impressive and the way Takao seemed to be able to sense exactly where Midorima was and pass him at the last moment was almost eerie.

"Aw Shin-chan you didn’t tell me we were playing for an audience."  Takao’s voice startled Rei out of his thoughts and he blushed a little as the two looked over at him.  "I’m Takao Kazunari," the man called out in a friendly voice, "who’re you?"

Before Rei could open his mouth Midorima replied, “His name is Ryugazaki Rei.  I’m sure he doesn’t have time for your shenanigans Takao.  Leave him be.”  Midorima snatched the ball from Takao’s hands easily and sank one final three pointer before turning towards the locker room.  "Do be useful and bring the ball Takao."

Takao watched Rei carefully, almost suspiciously Rei thought, as he jogged to the still bouncing ball and then started for the locker room himself.  Rei just stared after them both in surprise.

Since when did Midorima Shintaro know who Rei was?


	4. Kagami - Tarantism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Tarantism - Kagami/Anyone, after the winter cup?
> 
> Tarantism - The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.

Kagami Taiga did not dance.  Not off the court anyway.  He was big and bulky and had two left feet.  Kagami insisted that he didn’t dance, couldn’t dance, but if you watched him play basketball you’d see otherwise.

His music was the swish of the ball through the net, the squeak of shoes twisting and turning on the floor, the grunts groans and shouts of people coming together.  His tempo was set by the dribble of the ball echoing through the gym.  His beats of rest counted out through each sharp inhale-exhale while he was on the court.  Crescendos and decrescendos set by the mood of the crowd and the sway of points on the board.

Each opponent was a different partner.  Each game a new piece of music.

The easy push and pull of a familiar partner, skirting each other with the barest sliver of space between bodies, predicting the motions even as they make them.

The stumbling awkwardness of a new partner, making all the wrong moves at all the right times, unable to quite make it out of their space before they’re into yours.

Kagami insisted that he didn’t dance but when people saw him on the court he took their breath away just the same.


	5. AkaKuro - Yakuza AU - 3 sentence fic

There’s a difference in the kind of loyalty you’re given when the respect is based upon fear.  It was something Akashi knew, in theory, but until he looked into Tetsuya’s eyes and saw what was waiting for him there he never fully grasped the concept of it.  But all he saw in Tetsuya’s gaze - despite the fact he had a knife at his throat - was respect for Akashi, with a touch of annoyance at his current situation, without a trace of fear to be found and for the first time in a long while Akashi felt a genuine smile settle on his lips.


	6. AoRin - Star Crossed Lovers

Rin sighed as he watched yet another parade of potential suitors pass by.  There was nothing worse than being stuck watching a bunch of men and women fluffing their feathers to try and catch his attention.  He meets the gaze of the man across the room and they both roll their eyes at the whole thing.  Technically was all part of a peace treaty between their kingdoms.  A peace treaty that would go a lot better, in Rin’s opinion, if the sons on both sides would just be allowed to do what they wanted to do.

Namely each other.

But their kingdoms had split apart lifetimes ago, feuding and killing through the years.  They were just too different.  They had to start off small.  Baby steps towards bringing their cultures and people back together.  Marrying the only sons of either kingdom off to each other was impossible.  Bringing the kingdoms back together too fast and uniting under the sons like that was only asking for more strife.

So they were stuck with this.  Staring at each other from across the room.  Watching each other being flirted with and smiled at and pretending they weren’t digging their nails into their palms.

They finally manage to break away from the crowds and dancing and Daiki pins Rin to the wall with a kiss that leaves them both breathless and aching.  They don’t speak.  They don’t have enough time for whispered talks of the future and slow caresses.  Time is running out for them and they each feel the weight of the future bearing down on their shoulders.  All they can do for now is hold onto each other and try to remember how to breathe.


	7. AkaMayu - Proposals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AkaMayu "they said ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ so i’m speaking up" and “i jokingly told you that the only way i’d marry you was if you did this weird outlandish thing, and you actually did it, and i’m kind of charmed.”

"I can’t even say that I can’t believe you did that."  He doesn’t even look up from the book he has spread open on the table as the other man settles into the seat next to his.  Luckily everyone at the wedding had basically taken the event in stride, given that it was him and all, and had already more or less forgotten it.  "I am moderately surprised that you remembered that conversation though."

"Of course I remembered it.  You promised to marry me."

"I promised nothing."  

"You said you would marry me if I proposed at someone else’s wedding."

"I said ‘ _not even_ if you asked me at someone else’s wedding.’  You didn’t hear what I said.”

"No I heard.  I was also listening to what you did not say.  And what you did not say was very interesting."  He can feel those eyes on him, observing, probing, peeling away the layers and shining that brilliant gaze into his shadows.  Even after all these years that gaze pierces him and lays him bare.  He doesn’t have anything to hide but he feels like he should.

"You should stop having conversations with me without me."

The music picks up again and his eyes flick up to watch the dancers before settling back on the pages in front of him.  He’s still not entirely sure why he’s here; he had made an appearance at the ceremony - unforgettable thanks to the man sitting proudly beside him - so his attendance at the reception really isn’t necessary.  The happy couple are, more or less, his friends so they’d understand if he left.  Weddings, or social gatherings in general really, aren’t his thing.  So the only thing keeping him here is the man sitting next to him.  

Which is as good a reason as any to be here he supposes.

"Dance with me, Chihiro."  Commanding, _demanding_ , in no way willing to accept anything less than a yes (just like his proposal earlier today, his brain reminds him.)  Yet there is that breath of fondness that he’s come to recognize as something just for him.  That breath is what makes his own breath catch in his throat when a warm hand settles over his book, palm up, and he looks to the side.  That fondness is what wraps around his spine and tugs him to his feet in spite of himself.

_—_

_"… speak now or forever hold your peace."  A content hush is spreading through the crowd and everyone smiles.  There’s no reason those two shouldn’t be married and they all know it._

_Akashi stands and true to form all eyes are on him in an instant._

_"Chihiro," that telling softness to his tone that no one else ever seems to hear freezes him, "marry me."_

_He’s not one to blush.  He’s not one to be charmed by such an outlandish act.  “Please sit down,” he murmurs as the surprised chattering starts rushing through the crowd and his cheeks turn pink.  
_

_"That is not an answer."_

_"And you will never get one if you don’t sit down."_

_Akashi sits, obviously content enough for now, and the ceremony continues with no further interruptions._

_—_

"I never said yes," he states as a warm hand settles against his back, strong and sure and grounding.

"You never said no," is the reply.

"I suppose I didn’t."


	8. AoKaga - Authority

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I’m a super tough punk who hates authority. Your parents are cops who have met me more than once but I like you a lot' with aokaga and aomine being the cop kid

"Staying out of trouble this time?"

"Of course I am Sir, Ma’am."

Daiki can hear the sass rolling off the boy’s tongue, can practically feel the overwhelming smugness of some no name punk who thinks he’s all that because he can throw a punch or two and backtalk some cops, and he rolls his eyes, ignoring the conversation and focusing on sneaking the best snacks possible into his parent’s cart.  

Sure being all tough guy brave and mouthing off to a couple of off duty cops is all fine and well but try living with them.  Daiki had to try at least twice as hard to sneak out as a normal teen, ten times as hard when breaks rolled around and curfews were strictly enforced.  Getting busted at a party with alcohol would mean he got busted twice.  Fights at school _always_ involved the authorities.  It was all so much trouble in the end.

Which usually meant he just didn’t bother.  Which of course led to people thinking he was some sort of goody two shoes or something because it was too much effort to deal with his parents once they got involved in something.  Living with a couple of cops didn’t exactly make him the most popular kid in class.  Not that he cared much.  He still had Satsuki who, in his parent’s eyes, could do no wrong and was an angel sent from heaven to guide their son down the right path.

If that “right path” led to meeting up with Tetsu and the others and playing some street ball - nothing held back, elbows and punches passed back and forth as fervently as the ball was - well so be it.

And if he turns around at the sound of a familiar quiet laugh and spots Tetsu standing behind the same punk whose cheek his elbow had become very familiar with at the last street ball game well… that’s life for you.

Kagami’s eyes flash with recognition - and a cocky challenge that has Daiki itching to accept then and there regardless of his parents standing a foot away - when he spots Daiki and he grins.

"Well, Sir, Ma’am, it’s always a pleasure seeing you."  Tetsu slips past, unnoticed as always and Daiki feels a familiar tug of frustration at how easily his old friend stays under adult’s radar.  Kagami tilts his head towards Daiki’s parents before strutting past Daiki himself.  "Didn’t know your parents were cops," he murmurs as he passes Daiki, "That’s good.  I like a challenge."


	9. AoRin - New Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cop! Aomine and Cop! Rin meeting for the first time? While they try to be serious,they can't help but ogle at each others bodies in cop outfits and they talk about their pasts as athletes.

Rin shakes his head and blinks back to reality as his new partner’s voice filters through his muddled thoughts.  Dark blue eyes are alight with energy as Aomine leans forward expectantly _._ Rin’s eyes widen when he realizes he was asked a question.

"What was that?"  Aomine rolls his eyes and laughs.

"Look I know I’m distracting to look at but is it that hard to listen _and_ daydream about me at the same time?”

Rin flushes and sits up straight, putting a little more distance between them.  “Shut up!  I was just thinking about something is all.”

"Thinking about me shirtless probably."  

Rin opens his mouth to answer and then snaps it shut again when someone nearby chuckles.  After a minute of silence he takes a calming breath.  “What were you asking me?”

Aomine watches Rin carefully, dark eyes noting all the fidgets and shifts and Rin’s increasing blush, before kindly returning to his previous question.  “I asked sport you played.  You said you were an athlete in high school too?”

"Yeah.  I swam in high school.  College too.  I still swim sometimes.  Just for fun though."  Aomine’s eyes rake over him and Rin can almost feel the gaze zeroing in on his arms and abs under his shirt as Aomine nods appreciatively.  He’s glad they’re sitting because he’s not sure how comfortable he’d be with that heated gaze on his thighs right now.

"Swimmer, huh?  I can see it."  Aomine hums and glances down at the paperwork still spread out between the two of them.  "Maybe someday I can see it in person."

There’s a promise to his words that Rin can’t quite put his finger on but it makes a tendril of warmth curl up from his stomach and lick it’s way through his veins.

"Yeah," he replies, earning himself a pleasantly surprised glance from Aomine, "maybe someday."


	10. AoKise - Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a thunderstorm Muse A shows up on Muse B’s doorstep, soaked, shivering and bloody. The only thing they remember is Muse B.

The night he turned 20 Aomine Daiki went to bed happy and sated and pretty sure he was in love.  The next morning he woke up alone and confused to find his apartment empty.

Thunder rumbles and the lights flicker yet again.  The weather was a perfect mirror of his mood.  “Happy Birthday to me,” he mutters and tosses the magazine he’s been attempting to read for the last half hour onto the floor.  He can’t believe it’s been eight years now since Kise vanished.  Supermodel, star basketball player, idol; vanishing like a dream upon waking.  Even Akashi and his connections couldn’t find a trace of him.

It was an odd feeling knowing you were the last known person to see someone.  He hates when someone says he was the last to see Kise alive.  Because until he had proof of it he wouldn’t think that Kise was dead but he was starting to wonder if he still thought he was alive.

A loud knock at his door makes his already nearly permanent scowl deepen.  His damn neighbors are always getting on his case about playing his music too loud and he turns his stereo down with a sigh, figuring that would be the end of it.  A minute later another knock sounds and he groans.

"I already turned it down," he calls out from his sofa.  "Get the hell off my case alright?"

A third knock has him on his feet.  Fucking neighbors.  He couldn’t even get any peace on his damn birthday.  Not that he was celebrating it but still.

He yanks open his door before a fourth knock can come and truly piss him off.  “What the hell do you,” his voice drops off as he catches sight of the soaked man in front of him, “want?”

The man raises his head and Aomine freezes.  He takes in damp blond bangs hanging in the man’s face, the sharp red cut crossing his cheek, the way his gold eyes are cold and blank before another clap of thunder rattles the building and everything goes dark.

The only sound is the squish of wet fabric as the man in the hallway shifts and Aomine feels clammy fingers circle his wrist.

"Kise?"

"Aomine."

He sounds so much tireder than Aomine can ever remember hearing him _\- so much emptier, so broken_ his mind whispers to him - and he pulls him into his apartment without a second thought.

"Holy shit, Kise.  What?  How?  Just.  Holy shit."  He navigates his now dark apartment with ease and leads Kise to the bedroom.  "Just stay right here."  Aomine is out of the room and back with towels in less than a minute, barely able to comprehend that Kise was here.  Kise was standing in his bedroom dripping water onto his carpet.  Kise had shown up on his doorstep after eight years looking like he had been through a soggy version of hell and was standing here in the dark letting Aomine peel his soaked clothes off him and wrap him in warm towels.

Kise has always complicated things for Aomine and he finds out when he wakes up the next morning with Kise plastered to his side in a pair of Aomine’s sweatpants that at least that hasn’t changed.  Only he worries that the complications Kise is bringing him this time around might have him in over his head.  Because he can see Kise’s pile of wet clothes lying where he tossed them the night before and even as soaked as he had been Aomine can still see bloodstains spotting the clothes and he can’t help but wonder just what the hell Kise’s been through the last eight years.

Unfortunately Kise can’t tell him.  Because the only thing Kise can apparently remember is the location of Aomine’s apartment and Aomine himself.  Nothing specific about him just that he was Aomine Daiki and he was important to Kise.

"The most important thing," Kise murmurs as Aomine digs them out food for a late breakfast and Aomine stills because that was one of the last things Kise said to him all those years ago before they drifted off to sleep.


	11. AoKise - Elevators

"You are way too calm."  Aomine snaps at the blond in the corner standing there, infuriatingly, well, calm, as he scrolls through something on his phone.  It’s not like Aomine is scared, he’s more frustrated than anything else really, and seeing the other guy standing there so casually, like getting stuck in an elevator is just a normal part of life, irritates him further.  "Do you know something I don’t know?"

Curious golden eyes glance over at him and then the other teen drops his phone into his pocket and gives Aomine a smile so bright he’s pretty sure it blinds him momentarily.  That’s the only explanation as to how the other teen is suddenly only inches away from him without Aomine noticing.

"I’m sure we both know a lot of things the other doesn’t, that’s just how it works.  But if you’re referring to the elevator being stuck then no I don’t know anything.  Just that it sucks but it happens sometimes.  We’ll be fine."

Aomine doesn’t want to relax because of the other guy’s words, he’s Aomine Daiki after all and he doesn’t need someone consoling him like a scared child, but somehow the guy’s confident tone, a tone that would normally piss him off coming from anyone who wasn’t himself, soothes him a little.  Just a little.  Not that he’ll be telling anyone that anytime soon.

"Get stuck in a lot of elevators do you?"

His laugh is as cheerful and sunny as his smile is.  “Well I spend a lot of time in elevators it seems so it’s only natural that I get stuck in them from time to time I suppose.  My name’s Kise, by the way, what’s yours?”

"Why the hell do you want to share names?"

"Well if we’re going to be stuck here for awhile we should at least know each others names.  Don’t you think?"  Suddenly the bright eyes turn sad and the smile melts into a frown.  "Unless I’m bothering you.  Sorry."

God damn puppies have nothing on the look that this guy is suddenly giving him and Aomine thinks that even Satsuki and her big innocent eyes and full lips could stand to take a lesson in pouting from this guy.

"Aomine," he grits out and he has to blink at the sunshine flying his way again.  He kind of wishes he had his sunglasses right now.

"Aominecchi!"

"What did you just call me?"

Being stuck in an elevator for almost two hours was not something Aomine had planned on.  Missing the street ball tournament was not something he had planned on.  Leaving the elevator with a new friend, a new number in his phone, and plans for some one on one at the nearby court the next day was definitely not something he had planned on.

But after almost two hours alone in an elevator with Kise he can’t really say he’s surprised.


	12. AkaMayu - jocks & nerds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: can you maybe one day do jocks and nerds au with akamayu please?
> 
> My thought: But… they kind of already are jocks and nerds aren’t they? o.O

The one thing he really never expected to see was Akashi Seijuuro, captain of their famous basketball team, in the library with him.  It wasn’t that he felt the captain was too stupid to be in here, like certain other classmates of theirs who Chihiro is certain barely know what a book is.  Just the opposite actually.  Akashi was more than smart enough to not need the library.  Plus Chihiro is sure that Akashi has his own library in his home.

So he can’t think of any reason Akashi would be in his library - _his_ library because the years he’s been at the school he honestly can’t remember anyone else even coming in the doors other than teachers and the occasional student returning books for teachers.

But here he is.  In the library, at Chihiro’s table, leaning over him, and speaking to him.

Speaking slowly and softly as if Chihiro is some wild animal who will bolt.  To be honest Chihiro _is_ rather wary right now because as far as he can remember Akashi has never even looked his way or acknowledged his existence.  He smiles gently and lets out a soft chuckle, like he’s not sure if Chihiro is even listening to him.

He is.  He’s heard every word.  Which just makes him even more wary.

"You don’t need a tutor," he states, not even looking up from his book.  "And if by some miracle you did you wouldn’t come to me."

"Oh?"

"If you needed a tutor for anything your family can afford to and would gladly provide you with the absolute best tutor money can buy.  Which would not be me."  He can feel Akashi’s eyes on him and he has to resist the urge to fidget under that gaze.  Which, seeing as how he rarely fidgets, is just as unusual as the rest of this conversation.  "So let’s just end whatever little game you’re playing before we insult either of our intelligence any further."

Akashi hums pleasantly when Chihiro finally glances up at him.  “Interesting indeed.  Thank you for today, Mayuzumi Chihiro.  It’s been a refreshing conversation.  We shall speak again tomorrow.”

Chihiro watches him leave, sun streaming through the windows lighting his path as though it were rolling out and spotlighting a rich red carpet for him, and shakes his head.

He turns back to his book and pushes the strange confrontation out of his mind.  After all it wasn’t his place to wonder about the peculiarities of Akashi Seijuuro.


	13. IwaOi - things you said when I was crying

"Iwa-chan?"

That’s all it took.  

That nickname in that tone of voice: cautious, careful, considerate, like he was made of glass.  Something precious and brittle and to be revered.  Like he should be on top of a pedestal instead of being the pillar raising up the true prize to the light.  He shuddered, felt his control slip for a moment, and then warm fingers brushed his wrist and he just stopped.

Stopped caring, stopped pretending, stopped being in control.

"Oh, Iwa-chan," Oikawa murmured and when he kept talking, soft and sweet and gentle like Hajime was going to startle and bolt he wondered, not for the first time, if Oikawa could read him the same way he could read Oikawa most days.  "You’re going to be fine.  It’s okay to lean on me a little you know."  His breath was soft against Hajime’s forehead.  "Silly Iwa-chan.  Always taking care of me."

Oikawa didn’t mention the tears.  The harsh breath against his neck.  The fingers tight in his shirt.

He just wrapped his arms loosely around Hajime’s waist and whispered “Iwa-chan” in that voice.

That voice that was soft and careful and wrapped Hajime in a safe warm blanket until he could finally take a deep breath and shove Oikawa’s shoulder away with a grunt.  Oikawa grinned at him and winked, laughing when Hajime rolled his eyes and hooked his arm around Oikawa’s neck to drag him out of the locker room.

"My Iwa-chan."  Oikawa’s voice was hushed, almost reverent, and Hajime paused, cheeks flushed, before slipping his fingers between Oikawa’s and tugging him down the hallway.

"Of course I am."


	14. KuroTsukki - things you said whe you thought I was asleep

"Why did it have to be you?"  Kei watches as the moonlight paints Kuroo’s face silver as he sleeps, deep breaths steady and comforting in the dark.  Kuroo in motion is amazing; eyes sharp and knowing, limbs strong, gestures confident.  A flurry of emotions and willpower and sheer strength all coiled together in a neat package.  

"Of all the people in the world.  Hell all the people in the damn country it had to be you."  Kuroo at rest is a piece of art.  Kei doesn’t know a lot about art but the way Kuroo’s face is smooth as marble, the way his lashes darken the tops of his cheeks, the way the shadows play along the muscles of his bare back, the way his entire being called out to something inside of Kei - he knows it has to be a masterpiece of some kind.

 _You have to tell him eventually, Tsukki._   He’s not entirely sure if that’s his conscience speaking or just the memory of a drunken conversation with his best friend; Kei’s conscience has had Yamaguchi’s voice since sometime during the summer they were fourteen.  _It’s only fair that he knows._

Fair?  Fair to whom?  What’s fair about him spilling his guts, baring his soul to the one person he’s ever come across who has the power to rip his heart out and crush it in one fell swoop?

"Of all the people in the damn world I fell in love with you."

He takes one last look at the way Kuroo is sprawled on his bed and tries not to imagine what it would be like to slip under the covers next to him, to feel those strong arms dropped across his waist, to run his fingers through that unruly bedhead.  One last look and then he’s shutting the door quietly behind himself and padding down the hallway to his own room.  Agreeing to share an apartment with Kuroo and Kenma was probably one of the dumbest decisions in his life so far.

 

Kuroo stares at his closed door, barely able to hold himself back from jumping out of bed and chasing Tsukishima down because holy shit you don’t just drop a bomb like that on someone and just fucking walk away even if you thought they were asleep.  Especially not when they’re just as in love with you as you apparently are with them.


	15. KiKasa - things you didn't say at all

I love you.  

The words themselves fell from Kise’s lips fairly easily.  He was open with his affections and more than happy to drop the words into the unsuspecting lap of people - mainly one former captain from his high school years who still stubbornly refuses to return the words with any regularity.  Most of his friends and family simply pat him on the back or head and return the words with a fond smile and occasional eye roll.  His fans, fewer now as he aged and modeled less but still eager to have him swoop in and smile sweetly at them, returned the words with gasps and shouted words.

But Kasamatsu was stubborn.  Kise’s words still left a kiss of a blush on his cheeks as he scowled and smacked Kise on the shoulder or kicked at his knee, never enough to hurt though.  In fact these days the smacks were almost pats and caresses and the kicks were presses of socked toes against bare skin.

But those words rarely left his lips.

Over the years Kise has come to learn that there are many different ways to say I love you.

Kasamatsu said it when he left Kise texts on his way home from abroad or after long weeks away.  _  
_

_Send me a message when you get back so I know you didn’t do anything too stupid_.

_Don’t forget to buy yourself some damn groceries before you go home this time._

_Try not to stay up so late you fall asleep on the train on the way to play one-on-one.  I’m not going to wait for you this time._

He said it in the way he always had Kise’s favorite drinks on hand when Kise stopped by.  The way he let Kise stay on his couch when he was having a down stretch and didn’t want to be alone.  The way he knew to when to leave Kise be and when to drag him to the mall or basketball court.  The way he waited to see Kise’s light turn on in his apartment before he wandered away from the building when he walked home with him.

He said it in the way he let his guard down around Kise.  The way he fell asleep against Kise’s shoulders during movies and the way he let Kise use him as a personal heater in colder months, wrapping arms and legs around him and snuggling under blankets as Kasamatsu tried to read.

With all the ways he’s never said it, Kise honestly can’t remember _not_ feeling loved by Kasamtasu anymore.  Their first meetings in high school are a hazy memory and even then he knows that even if his captain didn’t love him at that point he still cared.

Kasamatsu mutters and buries his face further into Kise’s neck and he settles them more comfortably on the couch, turning the volume of the movie down just a little more as he settles his arm around Kasamatsu’s waist.

You don’t always have to say I love you for the message to get through loud and clear just the same.  Sometimes it meant more to not have to say it at all.


	16. MakoKisu - things you said when I was crying

Warm hands card through his hair as he curls even further into himself, tears running down his cheeks and soaking into the pillow.  It’s wet and messy and ugly and he doesn’t care at all.  He sniffles, catches a whiff of laundry detergent and shampoo, and buries his face into the pillow with a whine.  The scent is nearly as warm and comforting as the hand running through his hair and the body stretched along beside him.

When he showed up on Makoto’s doorstep barely fighting back the tears he had expected hugs and murmured words of generally empty comfort - simple words that were hollow but felt right enough at the time - and gentle mothering.

Makoto had taken one look at him, pulled him inside with a soft sigh, and lead him down the hallway to his bedroom.  Before Kisumi could even register what was happening Makoto had left and returned with a warm blanket - fresh out of the dryer from the feel and scent of it - and gently pushed Kisumi down onto the bed.

"I won’t leave," Makoto reassured him as he settled onto the bed next to Kisumi, shoving a couple pillows around and bracing his back against the headboard and that was it.

That tiny little sentence, and Makoto’s warmth against his side, comforted him more than a million murmured platitudes.  Makoto didn’t ask why he was here, why he chose him.  Didn’t ask what happened.  Didn’t reassure him that everything would be okay.  Didn’t try to make him talk or fill the silence between Kisumi’s sniffles and sobs.

All he did was sit beside him and let him cry until he passed out, exhausted and raw and ragged.

The soft smiles, gentle “are you alright”s, and understanding looks came the next morning over a late breakfast.  But by then he wasn’t so raw.  Wasn’t so broken.

"Stay as long as you need."

Those kind words, calm and secure where everything else in his world was churning and crumbling, soothed him, brought a smile to his face when he was sure he’d never remember how to ever again.


	17. KuroDai - things you said under the stars and in the grass

"So is this the point where you tell me you’re madly desperately in love with me and can’t imagine your future without me?"

"Kuroo," Daichi says as he stares up into the dark.  "I’ve known you a year and liked you far less time than that."

It’s strange.  He hadn’t started his final year of high school looking for rivals or new friendships or… anything else.  He hadn’t expected to become Dad to a team of wily volleyball kids - but he did and he wouldn’t trade any of his kids for anything no matter how much they frustrated him some days.  He hadn’t expected to form so many connections with teams like Nekoma and Fukurodani - but he had and his phone was constantly filled with messages from cats and owls and a whole zoo of new people with attitudes and opinions that challenged his own.  He hadn’t expected being able to stand toe to toe with the kind of fierceness that Seijou had - but, thanks to his kids and his zoo of friends, he had been able to.

He definitely never expected to find himself sprawled under the trees outside his parent’s house with Kuroo Tetsurou using his stomach as a pillow and seemingly content to stay there until they were little old wrinkly men as they stared up at the stars.  But here they were and, surprisingly, he doesn’t mind any of it one bit.

Even when Kuroo rolls over and yanks the hem of his shirt up to blow a raspberry on his stomach before getting to his feet, all fluid motion and grace.

"So you’re not madly desperately in love with me?"  Kuroo grins as he looks down at him.

Something tugs at Daichi’s heart.  Maybe it’s the softness from the stars and moonlight.  Maybe it’s the cool grass tickling his skin.  Maybe it’s the edge of curiosity to Kuroo’s words.  Maybe it’s the sliver of vulnerability that he’s sure Kuroo doesn’t realize is in his smile.

He pulls himself to his feet, solid and steady as he stretches next to Kuroo, and sighs.

"Never said I was.  Never said I wasn’t.  But I will admit the thought of a future without you in it is depressingly quiet."

He’s glad for the soft moonlight and the twinkling stars in the sky because it means the ugly blush - he knows he has an ugly blush it’s blotchy and spreads from his nose to his ears and down his throat like it’s trying to strangle him slowly - is hopefully less visible when Kuroo turns his slightly surprised eyes towards him and grins.

"Sawamura Daichi."  He drags Daichi’s name out in a way, and in a voice, that should grate on his nerves but it simply wraps around him and adds more heat to his face.  "You like me," he sing-songs.

Maybe it’s that soft light.  Maybe it’s the grass tickling his bare feet.  Maybe it’s the fact that so many things he never expected had already happened to make his life so much more exciting and lively.

Maybe it’s just the fact that he does indeed like Kuroo.

He shrugs and takes one last look at the stars before turning and pressing a quick kiss to Kuroo’s cheek and heading towards the house.

Kuroo raises a hand to his cheek slowly, blush crawling across his face, and laughs before hurrying after him.

"Daichi!  No fair!"


	18. AoKise - Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AoKise - ‘you’re lying on the floor of the movie theater crying and i’m the employee who has to tell you another movie starts in five minutes so you have to leave and i’m really sorry but im also confused as to why a documentary on lightbugs affected you so much’ au for rins-eyebrows

Aomine Daiki does not get paid enough for this shit.  He gets paid to push a broom up and down the rows of seats.  To pick up left behind cups and wrappers and candy boxes covered and filled with things that he really prefers not to imagine or think about.  To occasionally mop up a spilled drink.  To empty the garbage.

He does not get paid to deal with hysterical movie-goers.

Especially not hysterical movie-goers who are currently curled up on the floor of the theater, box of gumdrops in one hand and the other curled around a half-empty popcorn bag, sobbing over some dumb documentary about some dumb bugs.

"Yo," Daiki pokes at the sobbing mess with his broom, "movie’s over.  I gotta open the doors for the next one in like five minutes."  A dramatic sniffle is his response and he steps over the sobbing mess with a sigh to finish clearing out the row.  He moves on to the next row, sniffling and snuffling and whimpering following him as he amuses himself by tossing the empty boxes and cups across the theater, sinking them into the already overflowing garbage can with ease.

"Wow."  The awed voice makes him glance over and he sees that the sobbing mess is an actual person.  A guy with bright golden eyes and a face that is far too clear and composed to have just been wailing on the cold floor of a movie theater.  "That’s amazing."

Daiki grunts and tosses an empty cup - eyes never leaving the man on the floor - grinning when he hears it land atop the pile already in the can.  Awe he could handle.  At least he could handle it much better than the sobbing and wailing.

"So.  Why the hell were you on the floor crying like a baby over a documentary about bugs?"

The man’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open, like he can’t believe that Daiki even asked him which is fitting because Daiki doesn’t even know why he asked.

"Okay,  so…"

Three hours later Daiki knows much more about fireflies than he ever wanted to know and he has a new number in his phone.

It’s not until he’s home that night and sprawled on his bed flipping through his latest basketball magazine that he finally realizes where he knows the name that accompanied the number - and the face that belonged to the name - from.  Golden eyes stare up at him from the two page spread about his absolute favorite team and their newest player: former sportswear model and idol Kise Ryouta, finally retiring from modeling to focus on his basketball career.

The very same Kise Ryouta who he had spent over three hours listening to as he talked about the tragedy that is the dwindling population of fireflies.

The same Kise Ryouta who just sent him a text message consisting of nothing but an ungodly amount of emoji.

"What the hell did I do?"  He asks his empty room as his phone lights up with another new message.  One of the most sought after players in the league spent the afternoon crying and talking about fireflies and now apparently Daiki was his new best friend.


	19. KuroKen - Red String of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red String of Fate AU - 3 sentence fic

Red threads drift through the air, settling around him like snow, piling up and threatening to bury him.  Every life, every new start, every reincarnation flitting before his eyes, glinting like the treasured jewels they are as he wonders when he’ll get back to one where he can run his fingers through that messy hair, see that ever pleased smirk, feel warm arms pressed against him.  A flash of white catches his attention - the word Nekoma shimmering into life before his eyes - and Kenma reaches out for it.


	20. KuroTsukki - Snapchat and Regret

There are many times in his life that Kei has come to regret.  

His eleventh birthday when he insisted on eating three huge pieces of strawberry shortcake before going outside and playing volleyball with Akiteru turned into a regretful moment when he was momentarily distracted and caught the ball square in his stomach causing him to learn that strawberry shortcake only tastes good on the way down.

Listening to Yamaguchi and attempting to help a cat in the rain their second year of high school was instantly regretful when the cat took one look at him, introduced him to it’s claws, and left three long bloody scratches down Kei’s arm.

Giving in to Kuroo’s demands that he download Snapchat is definitely on that list.

He opens the notification and rolls his eyes at the picture waiting.  Kuroo’s zoomed in on some kid’s toy and bright letters on the packaging scream out ‘Dinosaurs Dinosaurs DINOSAURS!’  But of course that’s not all.  Kuroo has added his own witty caption of “Is this what goes on in your mind?”

Kei debates just ignoring it.  It wouldn’t be the first time and definitely won’t be the last that he hasn’t replied.  He’s above this kind of childish provocation.  He really shouldn’t rise to the bait.

He grabs the nearest notebook and flips open to a blank page, taking a quick picture and captioning it “Is this what goes on in yours?”

The reply takes only a couple minutes.  Kuroo is frowning into the camera with the caption “That’s mean” floating just under his chin.

Kei looks 110% done and unimpressed in his reply, “You started it” stamped across the center of the image.

 

"I thought it was pretty funny," Kuroo says that afternoon when Kei and Yamaguchi join him, Bokuto, and Akaashi at the coffee shop they like to meet up at.

"Your face is pretty funny," Kei retorts as he wraps his fingers around his warm coffee cup.

"Aw you think my face is pretty?"

Kei can’t quite keep the blush off his cheeks when Kuroo grins at him and Akaashi sighs.  They throw barbs back and forth at each other over coffee, the other three barely listening as they discuss some local band playing at a club that weekend, and all Kei wants to do is get a rise out of Kuroo for once.  Just one little flustered stumble.

"Some days," Akaashi says after he finishes off the last of his coffee, "I wonder if you two even like each other."

"Of course!  I love Tsukki!"  Kuroo bursts out.

"Only on weekends and holidays.  Birthdays don’t count," Kei responds quietly and finishes his own coffee.  Bokuto laughs at the distraught look on Kuroo’s face and Yamaguchi snickers at Kei’s smirk.

"You said you loved me on your last birthday," Kuroo protests as they all stand and slip into their coats.

"I was talking to my cake."

The walk back to their apartment is spent in relative silence, at least on Kei’s end.  He has his headphones on and music turned up just loud enough that he doesn’t actually hear most of whatever Kuroo is pouting and whining about.  He knows that if whatever Kuroo says is actually important the other man will catch his attention first and wait for him to pull off his headphones.  As it is he figures he can safely assume Kuroo is simply complaining about Kei “being mean” to him.

Kuroo refuses to come out and eat supper, choosing to curl up under his blankets and pout all evening.

It’s fairly quiet, even with his headphones off, and Kei can’t help the sliver of guilt niggling at him when he finishes the dishes and heads to his room and sees that the light in Kuroo’s room is still off.  Kuroo’s silence lasts through the last of his homework and his shower.

Kei changes into his pajamas and debates before scribbling something on a scrap of paper and slipping over to Kuroo’s room to leave it on his pillow.

Kuroo sticks his head out of his blankets when his door closes and squints at the paper, grinning when he makes out Kei’s neat handwriting in the moonlight.

 

_I love you._


	21. FukuYaku - Flowershop/Tattoo AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowershop/Tattoo artist AU - 3 sentence fic

Fukunaga rubs his shin, frowning as Yaku storms back out the door muttering about something he doesn’t quite catch because he’s too busy staring at the tattooist’s arm as he reaches out for the door handle.  What had been covered in a bandage the last time he saw Yaku is now covered in ink and Fukunaga can’t stop the blush spreading across his cheeks.  Green, red, and purple orchids - Fukunaga’s favorite flower - flow up Yaku’s arm in a tasteful arrangement that seems to practically glow in the sunlight.


End file.
